Piece By Piece
by Lunevis
Summary: AU. Instead of falling into the library, Add remains a slave. Years later, the El Search Party stumbles upon a lost, broken boy who is slowly falling into insanity. Involves triggers; please read warnings before continuing! Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Piece By Piece

Summary: AU. Instead of falling into the library, Add remains a slave. Years later, the El Search Party stumbles upon a lost, broken boy who is slowly falling into insanity. Involves triggers; please read warnings before continuing!

_If you ask me to write slave aus the answer will always be yes_

_Requested by a friend, and finally delivering! Enjoy c:  
Oneshot for now, may write more if I feel inspired!_

_**Warning**: Triggers for abuse, rape, and depressed/suicidal thoughts._

_Edit: I just realised that the warning may not be right for this. What do you guys think? Should I bump it up to a M, or leave it as it is?  
_

* * *

Branches flickered across his arms, cutting shallow scratches into his skin. Leaves flew across his vision, impairing his sight as he tore through the forest. Panting harshly, he ran, his feet pounding hard into the dirt. He clutched at his shoulder, where a seeping wound slowly bled, the crimson flowing like a waterfall across his fingers. His body tainted bloody red, he left horrible marks on the trees he had passed.

Clues. Hints to help _them _find _him. _

He could hear the whining of horses echoing through his ears, the shouts of men as they urged their steeds on. The yells, requests to bring him back and flay him slowly, piece by piece until he learnt his place.

The boy let out a choked sob, a horrid noise that stuck in his throat. No. No. He wasn't going back, he couldn't go back—the bruises that littered his body, the pain that ached in his lower body...it was too much to bear. He would kill himself before he could go back.

With that thought resounding in his mind, he once again picked up his desperate rush through the forest. He was close, so close! He could see it up ahead; the moon's light finally breaking through the barrier of branches, illuminating a clear field. Surely, he would find salvation there. Certainly, he would be granted freedom once he reached the holy lands.

He tears through the last of the branches with what little strength remains in his limbs, and stumbles into the open with a sigh of relief. Finally, he was safe.

Blinded by the sudden clarity of his situation, he takes a few steps forward. Just as he wants to reach out and embrace the grass, the land, the feeling of being a free man, he bumps into a person.

"What?"

Instantly, his mind goes into overdrive. _They found me. They have me. This can't be happening. No, no, no, nononono—_

The person which he had almost stepped on stands and stretches. It is a young male, with hair the colour of the burning crimson sun. No, hair the colour of blood.

He has never seen this person before. But he knows that the other male is a threat, that he will hurt him just like everyone else.

The boy begins to back up, terror written clear across his features. _No, no, no._

"Hey," the male looks concerned. He reaches forwards and grabs the boy's shaking wrists. "Are you okay? What happened?"

The scream dies in his throat. The boy's eyes flicker down to the male's hand, a firm grip on his arm that will not relent no matter how much he pulls.

"I'm Elsword." Elsword introduces himself. "Who are you?"

_Elsword. Elsword will hurt me. Elsword will hit me like they've hit me, he'll give me back to them and they'll whip me and flay me and fuck me—_

He's shaking so hard that Elsword grows concerned. "Really, are you okay? My teammates are nearby, they can help."  
He tries to scream, but all that comes out is a pathetic whining sound. He keeps his eyes glued to the floor. _Don't look up, never look up, the last time you looked up they knocked teeth loose—_

When Elsword gives him a gentle tug, he stumbles. And then he flinches, because he is not supposed to stumble—but what use is it now? Elsword has him captured, and soon he will be back with his masters. And the things they'll do...

He begs. Silently in his mind, a prayer that Elsword will kill him here and now.

"Rena!" He hears the blood-haired male call. "Raven! I found something!"

There are others. The boy's head spins with reality.

"Aisha, come look at this—"

He falls to his knees, lying on the ground. In surprise, Elsword lets him go. However, the slave boy does not run. He knows, he understands now that he cannot outrun this person—these people in his weakened state. He is condemned to his fate, to whatever torture awaits him, just like he has always been and always will.

He shuffles forwards, keeping his head down.

"Please," he manages. It is an ugly word, one so many times repeated. His voice is hoarse and dehydrated. "I'm sorry. Please." He repeats the only words he can. "I'm sorry."

"Look up."

When he does, his eyes are so filled with tears he can barely notice the ones streaking down the Lord Knight's face.

* * *

Someone has draped a blanket across his shaking form. He does not sleep at all during the night, too hungry and too afraid for what is to come. The next day, Elsword comes again, this time with a pretty lady in tow.

He does not like pretty ladies. They spit on him, crush his bones under their fancy heels.

"Hi," Elsword awkwardly greets. "This is Ara."

Ara, the girl with the raven hair. Black, like the darkness that embalms his cell.

The slave keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the blanket. Gripping it with all his might, he swallows harshly. He can feel Ara looking at him, piercing him with her glance.

"Maybe he's one of the villagers," she finally assesses.

He feels his throat clench up. The village.

"We should return him, then," an unknown voice calls from somewhere far away.

He feels faint. No. No. Whatever these strange people have in store for him cannot possibly be worse than the pain he will endure if he returns.

"Let's go, then." He hears someone get up. "No use hanging around here."

"Raven!" Ara snaps, and the boy flinches out of instinct. Turning back to him, Ara is gentle. "Don't worry. We'll take you back and see what's wrong, okay?"

He thinks that everything is wrong. He thinks that his existence is a mistake.

They feed him before they get ready to go. Stew, leftovers from yesterday's dinner. Rena, the lady to give it to him, explains with a gentle smile that they don't have any way of warming it and it was a quick construction, made of only the herbs they could find and a rabbit Aisha burnt.

He thinks it's the best thing he's ever had. And it should be, considering he's survived thus far only on scraps and food meant for the dogs.

"You're thin," Rena murmurs as she watches him eat. He ignores her comment because the soup is simply too delicious. It's gone within a matter of minutes, and although Rena offers to give him seconds, he refuses. His belly is already bursting full and it would be rude. Though these people are very nice, he knows it's only a matter of time before they lose their temper with him.

The walk to the village is brief, all too short. It is only Ara and Elsword coming along, as they decided it was better for only a few people to go to prevent suspicion. On the walk, Ara and Elsword attempt to create conversation.

"What's your name?" Ara asks gently, though Elsword shakes his head as if it's useless. The slave looks at Ara with wide eyes, then at Elsword, then back to Ara. Both encourage him to speak with nods of their heads and wide smiles.

He has not seen smiles this pure. Slowly, he speaks. "Add." The word feels strange on his tongue, something he has never had to say before. Usually, it was his masters that did all of the speaking.

"Add," Ara repeats. "It's very nice to meet you!"

He gives a timid nod, that one word already taken up all his courage.

When they lapse into another silence, he is both thankful and wary. Ara and Elsword are complete strangers—he cannot read them as he can sometimes his tormentors. Not being able to know both stressed him and relieved him.

They reach the village too soon, and as soon as steps foot into the area he blanches. His hands are shaking so hard it's a wonder he can still keep him at his side instead of despairingly wringing them together.

Ara notices this and purses her lips. They watch as Elsword looks around for anyone they can ask about Add's belongings.

"Add!"

And the blood instantly freezes up in his body, his hands trembling too much—he can't control them anymore. They twist the hem of his worn out shirt, again and again in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves.

It doesn't work. He watches, immobilized, as Elsword goes up to his master and exchanges a few words. He watches as his worst nightmare chats and laughs like any normal man, and then he catches in on the conversation.

"So who is Add to you?" Elsword asks.

There is a certain glint in his master's eyes. "He is the child of my sister."

Lies. Lies.

"Really?" Elsword smiles. "He seems rather...afraid."  
His master nods. "His family lived here a while ago; unfortunately, they were all wiped out by bandits. He still has nightmares of that and is wary of anyone new. I'm trying to get him to become friendlier, but it's a working process." A guffaw.

Elsword gives a polite laugh of his own, before retreating back to Ara and Add. "What do you think?" he asks Ara.

The female purses her lips. "What about what he said when you found him?" She doesn't look convinced.

"But he did say that the bandits..." Elsword is beginning to grow doubtful as well.

"Should we ask him?" Ara turns towards him with a gentle smile, and Add freezes up.

Deep down, he knows. He cannot betray his master. Not only would he get himself in trouble, he does not want Ara or Elsword to be hurt. He cannot drag them into his world.

"I..." His tongue feels swollen and clumsy. He glances at his master, and one stern look from the man is enough to make him quiver. "That's right," he says.

Ara still looks doubtful, though she gives her best smile and pushes him forwards. "Well, I'm glad you were able to find your family," she laughs. "I'll see you around, right?"

Add gives a small nod. _No, _he thinks. _After this night, I will surely be dead._

Elsword is next to leave. To Add's surprise, the crimson-haired male pulls him into a firm embrace. "Be careful," is all the knight whispers before he depletes, trailing after Ara as the two make their way down the makeshift road.

_Come back, _Add wants to scream. He wants to run after them, to follow them on their path to freedom, to adventure.

A harsh grip on his shoulder brings him back to reality. His master smiles down at him ominously.

"Now, Add," he says. "Where were we?"

* * *

A boot slams into his side, rolling him onto his back. Add bites back a scream as the boot moves again, kicking him in the stomach. The contents of his breakfast—his first breakfast in god knows how long—threaten to spill over, but he holds it in as bile rises in his throat.

He cannot stop himself from screaming wretchedly as the steel iron boot steps down on his wrist, crushing the dainty bones under the immense pressure. There are so many attackers, and from all around. He can't, doesn't want to process what's happening, and so he squeezes his eyes tight and hopes to live.

Someone plants a firm hand in his hair and jerks him up, and Add splutters just as a stinging backhand leaves a firm mark on his cheek. His neck is cracked to the side as another slap comes, this time leaving his ears ringing. He can't even scream as something closes around his neck, and squeezes hard.

And then he's gasping—pleading—because he can't breathe and he can't live and he can't _think_—

Air, blissful air rushes into his lungs as he's released, collapsing onto the ground in a broken, still lump.

_I'm alive, _he thinks to himself. _I'm still alive. _Sucks in desperate small breaths through his nose and mouth. Briefly, he thinks back to this morning, to events that seemed like a mere fairytale.

Then one of the men abusing him grabs him by the hips and Add wants to die.

* * *

_prepares self for onslaught of fangirls_


	2. Chapter 2

_Ahh thank you guys for all of the reviews! I love reading them, it makes my day. _

_Gonna keep the rating at a T, actually. I've decided the fic will remain at a twoshot, as I don't have the time right now to keep up with another series. Even so, thank you guys for all your love! _

_Same triggers apply, __this time with some guro__. __Review replies for the last chapter at the end of this one, and reviews for this chapter will be answered through PM!_

* * *

He lay with his back pressed firmly against the cold stone wall, the only sound in the small cell his laboured breathing. Add clutched his shoulder desperately, the gaping wound wide and bloodstained. Specks of red rained down his torn tunic as his thin body shook with each gaping breath, struggling to survive.

After they had finished with him—and bucked up their belts—the men that had tormented him so had picked him up and thrown him into the 'dungeon': a gloomy, chilly place that Add was frequently locked into if he had been bad. Usually, the slave did not mind being stuck. In the dungeon, he was left alone—which meant no more pain, no more insults and random abuse. In the dungeon he could scrape the shattered pieces of his sanity off the walls and claw at his own face until he was able to regain his composure—yet with each beating, he felt himself began to slip.

There was only so much pain one could endure before he began to wish it upon others. And he did want to hurt his masters, he really did. He wanted to rip out their organs and watch them scream and have them on their knees, make them beg for forgiveness. The thought created a warming sense in the pit of his belly, helping keep the chill from the wet walls from his bones. He imagined marching into his master's grand house, strong and able, and stabbing the man over and over again until he was nothing more than a piece of rotten meat.

And so these thoughts sustained him when his stomach was empty, when his tongue was a swollen monstrosity in his throat. His breathing was laboured, heavy restricted by the iron collar that clamped so tightly around his slender neck that swallowing pained him. Add would have cried if he had any tears left in his broken, bruised body, but empathy had been forcefully removed from him a very long time ago.

Briefly, he thought of escape. If he ran now, could he go back to Elsword and Ara and all of their friends? If he dared to break the chain and rush through the ominous forest, could he truly find freedom?

His thoughts are interrupted when footsteps slice through the silent air, filling Add with a sense of dread. No, no, they couldn't be coming back now, he hasn't even stopped bleeding...

Yet, it was so. The men swarmed into the musty room, glaring at him with sharp eyes like the cold glimmer of a snake. Add could only let out a small noise, a choked sob at the back of his throat as someone grabbed him by the wrists and slammed him to the ground, leaving his ears ringing and his head spinning. He thinks he hears himself cry out, but the entire scene seems all too distant as a boot slams into his side, breaking his cracked ribs. Tears streak down his face—he is past dignity, past honour and pride—as he _begs_, begs for them to stop hurting him because there's only so much he can take—

His desperate whimpers only seem to urge the men on, cruel smirks etched onto their faces as they let out guffaws created from seeing the slave's terror.

_Sadists, _he thinks. _You call yourself worthy men of the village, yet deep down you are all filthy sadists. _

He risks a glance up at the men abusing him, eyes filled with burning hatred. His momentary act of rebellion is met with a firm hand in his hair, tugging him forcibly up.

"You think you're something?" Hot, heavy breathing stinking of beer. Add wants to cry—he knows what usually follows something like this. Keeping quiet, he squeezes his eyes closed as the hand in his hair gives him a rough shake, one that makes his frail bones tremble.

"I'll show you something," the man speaking smirks, just as he slams Add down and hovers over the slave's thin, shaking body.

_If I call, will anyone hear me?_

The roars of laughter from the men in the dungeon accompany him even to his dreams. His nightmares are laced with poison, haunted by secrets echoed through the sickening slap of skin against skin.

_Why was I born? I want to die._

He can physically feel himself slipping. He's reached the breaking point, reached an entire new level of hurt that cannot be compressed by his broken brain. His memories are nothing but abuse and rape and—

He has a fragment. He has a small shard of peace, of one night spent with a blanket over his body. Of a boy with burning crimson hair, the first man that never hurt him in any which way. Of a girl with soft, pretty orange eyes, worry etched clear in her golden orbs.

He lets out a strangled sob as the man pushes inwards all too roughly, aided by the calls of his coworkers.

Those few hours seemed too good to be true.

Add closes his eyes, and allows himself to imagine a future where he ran away successfully, where he met up with his teammates and went on adventures happily. He allows himself to think of another alternate route, of his parents surviving and perhaps another sibling—he would really like a little sister—for him to raise and laugh and—

A wretched scream is ripped out of his throat. _No, stop, I'm going—I'm going to break into pieces, it's too big it won't fit just please—please—_

And finally, he is greeted with blissful silence. _I'm dying, _he tells himself as if it's just an everyday fact. _I'm going to die, but that's okay._

_ It was a wasted life anyways._

* * *

_/bows/ I hope I didn't scare off any readers. Anyway, how was that? C: If you enjoyed it, do review, please and thank you. If you were horrified, my greatest apologies._

_Review Replies: _

_SkyxFall: SQUEALS  
oh god thank you! ilu ok this is for you  
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Whump!Add is best Add no arguments  
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You too! Much love _

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_THIS IS REALL Y: PATS THERE THERE  
I'm sorry for destroying your feelings thank you for the review! _


	3. Chapter 3

_...So I gave into peer pressure._

_Naw, just kidding! :D I must say, I'm amazed by the level of support I've gotten for this story, and all of you guys demanding updates! Thank you all so much; this chapter is for you!_

_I can't say I'm going to end this story as I would probably be lying, but at this point I'm honestly just letting my inspiration flow and seeing how much it'll write for me. I'll end it once I feel like it's right—but reading your reviews, I couldn't just leave you hanging!_

_Thus, I present chapter three. :) This is for all of you lovely reviews! _

_Same triggers, though more fluff in this one. Elgang to the rescue!_

* * *

"It still doesn't feel right."

Elsword looked up from polishing his sword to see Ara standing before him, a frown etched clearly in her features.

"What?" he prompted, though he already knew the answer. They'd had the same conversation the day before, and the day before that. It'd gotten to the point where Rena started shooting the both of them worried glances, and Raven had disappeared suddenly to do some so-called 'research'.

"Just leaving Add there," she snapped, inpatient. "We should at least check on how he's doing."

"You heard his uncle, he's recovering." Elsword flicked his finger across a nick in the blade, wondering how that had come to be. So many battles, so many lost memories.

"Recovering is what he said," Ara snorted. "I don't believe a word of it. He was scared, Elsword, literally scared! That kind of look doesn't come from just anything."

He sighed heavily. The Sakra Devnam's usual cheerfulness and caring for her teammates was really getting to the Lord Knight today. He had to place his team above everything, and all of his senses were telling him to get to Hamel as soon as possible. They simply did not have time to stop and check on Add with how the world had been of late.

"And how would you know?" he asked with a quiet mutter.

Ara fell silent, betrayal glistening in her soft orange orbs. "He was scared, Elsword," she repeated. "This just doesn't feel right."

Elsword paused. Usually, at this point of the conversation, he would simply dismiss her with a few comforting words. Even so, with the number of times this course had repeated, he was opted to do a little more than just wave away the strange boy they'd found in the forest two days ago.

"Even if it was something more," he started slowly, watching as Ara's face lit up with hope. His heart twisted in his chest as he finished speaking. "We don't have the time to check right now. The forces in Hamel are greater than ever and we need to take immediate action."

The silence that followed felt like it was strangling him, twisting around in a grotesque show as the strings of fate teased him. He watched Ara's face darken, her lighthearted expression replaced by something darker.

"So you would throw away a life?" she asked. The question was simple; there was no need to hide it behind any pretty little words or unmeaning compliments.

Elsword stood up, gripping his sword. He swung the blade a few times before him to check, and then sheathed it with the sharp slice of metal against leather as he regarded the female before him. "If I don't take action now, many more would die." He sighed deeply. "Sometimes you have to pick between lives, Ara. And the choices you make aren't exactly what's to be expected of a saint."

The oriental female was silent, her robes swishing as she crossed her arms. The white cloth glittered in the light of the rising sun as she fixed the Lord Knight with a firm expression.

"I know that," she said, and Elsword is reminded how old the other really is. Ara may be cheerful and silly and clumsy beyond belief, but she was anything but a fool, even if others constantly passed her off as one due to her naturally believing nature.

"I still believe in hope, Elsword," the Sakra Devanam said quietly. "Why don't we split up? You can take Chung, Aisha, and Elesis to Hamel. The four of you will be able to hold back the demons until we arrive."

Elsword fixed her with a gaze, though the male already knew it was a losing battle. "That is not exactly wise," he told her.

"Wise or not, I don't care." Sometimes, he really did forget how stubborn the female was. "Or else I'll go by myself."

Despite the situation, the Lord Knight couldn't hold back a small smile. "Stubborn as always, Ara Haan."

She simply smirked in response. "Wouldn't be myself without."

"Take Rena, Raven, and Eve," he commanded. "I'll take the others to Hamel. You better hurry; or else there'll be nothing left for you guys to kill and Raven wouldn't exactly be happy."

Ara just laughed, a noise like twinkling bells as she strode off with the deadly grace of a martial arts master. Elsword saw her stop and say something to Rena on the way out, and the Wind Sneaker instantly bounced up from her sitting position and gathered her supplies, ready to set out.

_This better be good, _he thought. _For Add's sake._

The walk to the village took much longer than expected; they had spent quite a while looking around and yelling for Raven, only to find the Reckless Fist sitting casually near the entrance of the village.

"What took you so long?" he asked, flexing his Nasod arm as he regarded them with cold superiority. "I almost fell asleep."

Rena just snorted. "Figures, you're getting old."

"Watch your mouth, Wind Sneaker."

"Right back at you, Reckless Fist."

As she listened to them bicker, the noise soon faded into background music. Ara cast a glance at the Code Empress standing nearby, refined and elegant as she floated slightly above the ground. Moby and Remy fluttered around, checking systems and speaking with quiet rumbles at the queen. When she noticed the Sakra Devanam watching, Eve beckoned her over.

Slightly embarrassed that she'd been caught staring, Ara strode over to stand by the Nasod's side. Eve stared with blank eyes at the village, then turned to look at Ara with a regal air.

"I don't like it," the queen told her. "Something's not right."

"What do you mean?" She and Elsword had agreed not to tell anyone of how exactly they'd returned Add, but she had a feeling the Empress knew more than she was letting on.

"Look." Ara followed Eve's finger towards the fields, where men carrying heavy ploughs laboured over the fertile ground. To sum it up, not an uncommon sight one would see during the day.

What was interesting were the chains around their necks, connecting each of the men together.

"I—" For a second, Ara could find no words. She blinked, once, twice, but the scene did not change.

"Slaves." Eve confirmed.

"Slaves?" Ara echoed, unsure what to make of the situation. "But I thought slavery was abolished long ago..."

The queen shook her head, a saddened expression taking over her features. Her mouth twisted into the smallest of a frown, she spoke again. "Although it is illegal in some parts, slave trading still remains a huge funding for merchants and the like nowadays. It also provides small villages with the labour and entertainment they need, so such things are not brought to light."

"That's horrible," Ara murmured. "How do we stop such a thing?"

Eve was silent. "There is no way," she said gently. "You can't change everything, Ara."

The Sakra Devanam was silent, pondering over what the Code Empress had said, when suddenly a thought occurred to her. "Wait! You don't think..." she faltered, unable to voice her dark thoughts.

Eve nodded. "Most certainly."

"What's happening?" Rena had wandered over whilst they chatted, dragging with her a mumbling Raven.

Eve said nothing, only directed their glances to the working slaves by extending an elegant finger.

Rena's face darkened immediately as the elf turned away, her mouth set in a straight, tough line. "We do not have such things amongst my people," was all she could say.

Raven, on the other hand, had a much more interesting reaction. Ara watched in faint amusement as the Reckless Fist turned a bright shade of red, then cracked his knuckles. A small spark shot from his Nasod arm as he gnarled, a deep, inhuman sound. "That's the shit I can't stand at all," he growled, clenching his fist. "Pretty, ignorant little princesses that think servants exist only to cater to their whims and even in battle."

Eve ignored the jab at her position and simply fixed a calm eye on the village before him. "So," she said. "What do we do?"

Raven smirked, his blade already out of its holster. Next to him, Rena tightened her ponytail as Ara drew her spear.

"We show those sons of bitches no mercy."

* * *

He hurt. He hurt so much, blazing fire in his limbs that coursed with every single breath he took. On days like this, it was almost impossible to pinpoint exactly which areas of his body hurt the most—all he knew was that it was everywhere and he just wanted it all to _stop_. The chain around his neck was tight, painfully so, grating against his skin anytime he dared to swallow. His tummy rumbled after days of not being able to eat anything, and his tongue was so swollen inside his mouth he could barely lick the condensation from the walls.

He heard noises outside, but couldn't quite make sense of any of it. Frowning, he tried to right himself, only to wince when a sharp flame of stabbing pain rang clear in his broken wrist. Hugging the damaged arm to his chest, he focused.

Instead of the noise of the working slaves—how he longed to be one of them, fed and bathed and clothed, instead of a rag doll tossed around—and the crackling whip of the angry overseer, there was instead...screaming?

A horse neighed outside and shouts rang around, and Add thought he heard his master. Cringing, the slave curled tighter into a ball and waited for his end.

The door was suddenly kicked open, and a man Add had never seen before walked in. The slave wanted to cry—new tormentors?

The man bent down with ease, and the boy let out a hoarse cry. _Please, no more..._

The man stopped, but Add was already curled in the fetal position, shivering. He felt strong arms wrap around him and lift him up, and someone pet his back. A soft female voice crooned words to him, and he trembled even more—what kind of torture was this? A new game that his master had devised?  
For a brief second, Add thought he heard Ara's voice. He still remembered the female and her team—Elsword, he can remember quite clearly as well. But he only passes off the voice as him hallucinating in his starved state, and finally passes out against the chest of the person carrying him—with surprising gentleness, he notes.

His heart thumps against his chest even as he begins to drift off, and Add dreams of forbidden touches and painful lashes.

* * *

_Review Replies: _

_RecklessAmmo: /hands you new update/ Here you are! C:_

_aimeemaravi12345: Thank you for the lovely review!_

_LustyHearts: Ahh, thank you so much! I think your review was one of the biggest that inspired me to continue the series, haha. Thank you for the lovely review and the inspiring words, and I hope I don't disappoint! C: _

_Albertrojas: /pats/ There there._

_Obsucuria: Ta-da! C: Your third chapter, as requested. Yes, hope is always strong!  
Thank you so much! /sends hearts/ That makes me very happy to hear. C:_

_BubblyYinny: Ahaha, well, Elsword simply isn't the sharpest sword in the drawer. He has his good points, though! _

_Passerby: Huehuehue. C:  
Aww, thank you so much! /sends hearts/ I'll try my best! _


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, this is the actual last chapter. While I am amazed at all of the support this story has gotten so far, I honestly never intended for it to go beyond a twoshot and, as I've said, I have other stories planning and don't have the time to keep up with this one. _

_To compensate for ending this so abruptly, have a long chapter! I really racked my brain for a good ending to help along the premise of this story, so enjoy!_

_Lies down this chapter killed my feels you have been warned_

* * *

When at first he wakes, Add is confused. Blinding light reaches into his eyes, making him squint and roll over with a small noise of protest. That's strange. There's never any light in the dungeon.

The slave thinks that maybe his master had seen fit to give him a small reward, or this was another cruel trick. At the thought, his body freezes up. His mind, still addled by the lingering mist of sleep, is not nearly working fast enough for him to comprehend any of his surroundings.

He brushes his fingers against the ground, and feels the soft wetness of morning dew greet his gentle fingertips. So he's on a field, presumably. But why was he out in the open like this, and why was it so silent all around?  
_I've died, _he thinks, and it's the only logical explanation he can come up with for this conundrum. _I've died and this is actual heaven—even for someone like me. _The thought does not chill him in the least. Rather, he is excited for a life of no more masters, no more mistakes and blinding lashes.

Well, if he was dead, why did he still hurt all over? He shifts and his back instantly goes up in flames, scarring pain lashing its way across his body as fresh wounds are opened by the simple motion. Even the brushing of soft blades of grass anger his distressed lacerations, and in response he gives a small whine.

Instantly, there is shuffling. He freezes up and no, no, it was all a trick and a mistake and now that he made a noise they were to hurt him for sure and have him beg and _never, ever forgive him_—

"Is he awake?" someone asks. Add braces himself for a blow, any form of punishment done to his already aching body.

"Can't say for sure." This is a voice he's never heard before, but Add is sure they will hurt him all the same.

"Add?" So they know his name. Add twitches his fingers, the instinct to reply and obey overpowering his frayed nerves, and he slowly opens his eyes as he braces himself for the worst.

Only, it doesn't come. Instead, he is staring into a pair of bright orange orbs set on a noble, esteemed face. Soft grey hair tickles his neck as she leans in close, checking for a pulse.

"You're awake," she says.

Add doesn't know what instantly triggers forbidden knowledge inside of him, but he grew up with his parents—his real parents, the ones that had loved him and hugged him before the village set his mommy and daddy on fire for doing experiments on unlawful things—and he _knows_. He just knows.

"Nasod," he breathes, eyes wide in amazement.

The lady draws back, seemingly surprised by Add's words. The slave mentally berates himself—Nasod or not, they could still hurt him. He doesn't get time to apologise or beg for forgiveness before the woman is drawn back, her serene face replaced by someone he thought he'd never see again.

"Oh Add," she breathes, and loose black hair puddles in silky strands around her knees and folded hands. She brushes an escaped strand behind her ear and blinks at him with overly bright eyes, smiling.

"Ara," he croaks the very name he hadn't expected ever to say again.

Then she is crying, and if he had the energy he would've sat up and panicked, but his back is hurting too much and his head pounds against his thoughts, so he simply watches her. The Sakra Devanam's hair falls everywhere, the strands liberated of their usual bead clip. Ara is crying—not in the loud, wailing sense, but the quiet little way that only makes it more heartbreaking. Tears drip down her face and splash onto his neck and chest, wet droplets making small marks in his soiled clothes. She makes no effort to stop her emotions, only continuing wildly.

"You're okay," she tells him.

And he wants to believe her, but Add knows that he won't be. That he'll never be okay, that they'll always find him no matter what and bring him back and make him _obey_.

"You're okay," she repeats, and Add almost wants to cry himself.

"Ara, you're scaring the boy," a voice says, and the slave almost jumps at the sound of an unfamiliar tone. It doesn't help that the voice is low and humming, a male rumble that spoke of unforgiving power.

Ara notices him tense up, and the Sakra Devanam reaches for his trembling hand and gives it a small squeeze."I'm sorry!" she says cheerfully, wiping away a tear while laughing at her current state. "I just get so emotional sometimes..."

A male steps into view, with wild black hair spiked by a flare of white that gave an edge to his unruly appearance. His outfit, the front casually undone in a teasing style, was complimented with pieces of armour here and there. However, what frightened Add the most was the man's unusual arm—a large, flaming monster that flexed about as if it had it's own mind. Unwillingly, Add felt himself shuffle backwards.

The man drew closer, concern written over his features. "Hi there. I'm Raven. You alright?"

Add could only swallow harshly and nod, eyes wide.

Raven sighed, getting down on his knees to be eye level with the shivering slave. "Don't be afraid of me," he murmured quietly. "Everyone is at first, to some extent. But I promise I won't hurt you." Pained golden eyes met fearful pink ones, and Add breathed harshly through his nose as he attempted to calm his jittery nerves down.

"Okay," he says, even though his heart is pounding hard in his ears and his entire body screams at him to stop, not to trust these strangers. "Okay."

Raven simply gives him a look that is something between sadness and happiness, and Add thinks that perhaps the other male understands to an extent—maybe not everything, but at least what it feels like to be abandoned, lost, and utterly alone.

He makes it his goal to know more about Raven, if he's ever given the chance.

Not soon after the Reckless Fist departs, someone else replaces his place. Add feels dizzy, wondering how many more strangers he will have to meet and if his nerves are up to the task. So far, they'd been nothing but kind to him, but one could never be too sure.

"Hello!" she chirps, her blonde ponytail swishing around as she hops down to face the slave. "I'm Rena. How are you feeling?"

Rena. He remembers Rena, the kind lady that had given him stew. At the memory, his stomach lets out a rather large rumble that he immediately covers with both arms and looks up, embarrassed to the core.

"Hello," he greets back meekly.

He's expecting their faces to turn, to twist from beautiful smiles to ugly smirks once they heard the horrible noises coming from his tummy. However, nothing of the sort happens—leaving him very confused. Instead, Rena snaps her fingers, causing him to jump.

"Right!" she says rather loudly, and Add shuffles slowly back until he nearly bumps into Ara's crouched form. At this, the elf's face softens and the Wind Sneaker bends down to extend a hand in greeting. "I'm sorry for scaring you," she said gently. "Would you like some food? You must be hungry."

His mind is screaming at him to stop. His instincts tell him that this is another trick, that if he so readily agrees they will drag him by the hair and force him on his knees and rip open his mouth. That they will pour water and juice and beer and bits of food down his throat until he's crying, unable to take it. Then, he remembers with a shudder, they'll force him down and punch him hard enough his ribs tremble and his entire body _hurts_, forcing the food back up. Finally, this will continue and they'll keep forcing him down and his mouth open and when they tire—

He doesn't realised he's spaced out until he hears someone call his name, and Ara's voice snaps him back to reality. He gazes at the female elf before him with uncertain eyes, wary and misted. Rena only nods in response, her grin stretched wide.

"You can trust me, Add," she says softly.

Trust. He thinks that he cannot trust, only because he has never learnt how to. From his earliest memories he has always been hurt, beaten and trained and used and abused. He doesn't know what it's like to trust someone because he was always alone, freezing in a dark cellar somewhere as the roars of cheering men and smells of a grand feast wafted down, only urging his desperate senses. He's never given his trust to anyone because he was never given the chance, and now he doesn't know how to anymore.

The slave turns wide eyes to Rena, and the female sighs heavily as she watches him with an unknown emotion in her eyes—pity?

She pushes herself to her knees, dusting off small blades of grass. "I brought along some dried jerky in case we needed food," she said with a nod to Raven. "I'll go get it."

"Set up camp too," Eve orders, and Rena gives a slight tilt of the head to say she understood. Then she heads off, disappearing into the early morning fog, and Add doesn't know if he wants her to come back or stay away forever.

Nearby, Raven perches on a rock. "So," the Reckless Fist casually states. "What'll we do with him?"

That sends instant chills up and down Add's spine. The last time they pondered something like this, he ended up with his master. At the memory, he swallows harshly and grips his hands into fists, shaking terribly. His broken nails dig into the sensitive skin of his palm, already cut open from many other anxiety attacks. As a small stream of blood begins to trail down his wrist to plop softly onto the grass—crimson red on natural green, he thinks, is a terrible, terrible combination—Ara speaks up.

"Maybe we should take him with us," she says softly.

The reaction is instantaneous. Raven seems to consider it, and for a few brief seconds Add feels his pounding heart settle. Yes, he would be okay. They would protect him.

"No."

It is the Code Empress that speaks, and both Raven and Ara turn to Eve with shocked faces. Add trembles, closing his eyes as he bites back a scream. Of course. They would want nothing to do him with and his failure of a life.

"Eve?" Ara questions, and the emotion in her voice is heartbreaking. Her orange orbs swim with unshed tears, and the Sakra Devanam looks seconds away from attacking the Queen of Nasods. From her memory, Ara knows that Eve is a good, fair ruler, not unkind. So why was she treating Add this way?

"We can't," Eve supplies, fixing Raven with her calm orange gaze. "You know we can't."

Ara spins around to face the Reckless Fist, confusion written clear on her features. "Raven?"

The addressed man sighs heavily, shuffling so that he is sitting rather than crouching on the rock. "Eve's right, Ara," he says quietly. "We can't keep Add with us."

The slave flinches as he hears these words, his heart heavy. If he had to go back...he began to shake, unable to imagine the consequences. "Please," he hears himself say, and all three El Search Party members turn towards him. "Just kill me."

And Ara gasps, her hands flying up to her mouth as she gazes at him with wide eyes. "N-no!" she stammers. "We can't do that..."

Raven's mouth is set in a tight line, his arms folded. "Ara's right. We can't."

Only Eve refrains from speaking, the queen working over all the possibilities in her mind. "It may be the kindest thing," she suggests.

Ara and Raven both turn on her, their eyes flashing in golden unison. "Eve! What are you saying?"

"Eve's right, you know."

Rena comes up, carrying a package. She tosses the food towards Add—who fumbles with the pack as it lands in his lap—and comes to rest beside Ara. "Eat up," she tells him.

"Rena," the Sakra Devanam looks moments away from crying. "What are you saying?"  
The Wind Sneaker pulls her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her arms in an uncharacteristic show of weakness, her brows furrowed together. "Well," she begins, and nods to Eve. The queen dips her head in response, motioning for her to continue.

"Eve is correct. We can't take Add with us. Ara, Raven, you two know this. We're on a mission to save the El, to save the world. If we travelled onwards towards Velder and Hamel and Sander, where would Add go? Bringing him into the heat of battle with us is selfish and dangerous. He isn't properly trained nor armed, and in his current state is very weak. If we allowed him to come along, we would be leading him to his death."

Silence follows her words, and Add even pauses from his slow munching on jerky—the food is good, so good that it brings tears to his eyes as it settles his so empty stomach—to look up at the others. What they're saying is true, the slave knows; he'd be nothing but a burden.

He knows, deep down, that he cannot stay with Ara and Eve and Raven and Rena. He knows that they will leave him, like everyone else in the world.

Ara bites her lip. "We can teach him!" she says. The slave turns shocked magenta eyes on the Sakra Devanam—why was she so willing to fight for his cause?

Rena shakes her head gently. "No," she says. "We don't have time. Chung needs to get to Hamel as fast as possible, and we need to catch up with Elsword. We can't take a break from our duties because of one person."

Ara bites her lip, glaring holes at her teammates. "Even so, we can't just leave him here!"  
"Ara," Eve speaks up from her position, hands folded neatly in her lap. The Code Empress looks every bit the perfect queen; flawless, royal, and merciless. "This is life. We have to give up."

And Add feels horribly guilty, because there is that split second where Ara's face is confused—trying to understand Eve's words, not believing the queen's final verdict. But then her face completely crumples, and tears spill from closed orange orbs as she shakes, her wails growing increasingly louder as the reality of their situation hits her.

But the slave hardly as time to reflect on this before he is pulled into a hug, and the smell of maple trees and fresh grass and freedom envelopes him as Rena wraps her arms around him.

"I'm sorry," she says, and her voice momentarily cracks. "I'm so sorry."

Add throws it to the birds, since if they're going to leave him for the dead he might as well accept the fact. His arms move around Rena, and in response the Wind Sneaker only lets out a single sob as she pulls him even closer.

They stay like that for god knows how long, before the elf composes herself and Rena moves away, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. She places a gentle hand on Ara's shoulder, but the Sakra Devanam moves away swiftly.

"What's the point?" the girl screams. "What's the point of any of this if we can't save anyone?"

She's shaking, and Add feels sorry for the girl. He knows that Eve is right, that there are no happy endings in real life.

"I can't accept this," Ara says. "I can't—" She collapses into Rena's waiting arms, letting out a soulwrenching wail.

"What if I can't save him?" she asks. "What if I can't save Aren?"

The slave suddenly understands. Add knows that this was never about him, that Ara couldn't care less what happened to him. He knows that the girl will always care about the people she actually knows and consider their wellbeing before a complete stranger's. He knows this, and he's okay with it. Rather, the notion of how faithful she is to her family warms his shattered heart. He wants to tell Ara that it'll be okay, that she'll rescue her brother from whatever predicament, but life has taught him that nothing is fair. All he can is look on and hope for the best, hope that when she is unable to save this 'Aren', Ara won't be too broken.

Rena touches her shoulder, and the elf leads the distressed Sakra Devanam away. Once the two girls leave, Add turns around only to come face-to-face with Raven.

He jumps. Raven sighs. "You're still not comfortable with me, are you?" he asks quietly, but before Add can reply the Reckless Fist speaks again.

"I-I don't like leaving anyone behind." He swallows harshly. "I made a mistake and left someone behind once." For a second, Raven falters. His golden eyes are dim, staring into some mirror of the past. Then, he flickers to look upwards and fixes Add with an intense gaze.

"Don't do it," he says, and the Nasod arm flexes in tune with its master's words. "Don't die. Stay strong, you hear me? We'll come back. And once we do, you better be ready to come along. I'll kick your ass into Fieta if I have to."

They both know this is wishful thinking, but still Add gives a small smirk. "Bury me in Sander," he tells the Reckless Fist.

"With glass and roses and a funeral and all that shit," the man replies, and Add can rest knowing at least his body will be alright.

Then Raven pushes himself to his knees and departs, hunched over. Add thinks that the male is carrying a burden meant for many people alone, and hopes that Raven will seek support before he destroys himself.

The slave is left alone with Eve, and with hesitation he turns to face the Queen of Nasods. The Code Empress sits perfectly still, ever steady. Her eyes bore into his own, and out of instinct Add cowers slightly.

"A queen," she speaks slowly. "Places her throne above her people. She places the majority over the minority."

"Stop," he tells her. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

She dips her head. "Very well." There is no thank you, no apologies. They both know that this what had to be done in order for both of them to survive, that their paths were never meant to cross in the first place.

Silence ensures, but Add is okay. Finally, Eve stands as well. She dusts herself off, her small crown glittering in the faint sun. "We must get to Hamel," she says.

Add knows. He nods, though part of him wants to scream. Part of him wants to tell them not to leave, beg them to take him along, save him from this life.

Without waiting for him to say anything, the Code Empress departs.

Add is left alone, but he is not afraid. For the first time in ever, he is free. He stands at the crossroads of fate, with the burning of that wretched village and the screams of his masters as they lay dying accompanying his thoughts. He closes his eyes and leans back on the grass.

_Good luck, Elgang, _he thinks. _What a world this is._

* * *

_I honestly have no words. This fic inspired me to keep writing for Elsword and really destroyed my feels. Thank you all for reading._

_RecklessAmmo: Thank you! I hope this ending was okay._

_FlyingPotato: Ta-da! _

_Obsucuria: Thank you! /hugs and takes cookie/  
Nono, thank you for the review! C: Each one of my reviews make me so happy._

_BubblyYinny: Ara really is, I love her. C:  
Eve...I have so many headcanons for her omf.  
Ahah, yes. Elves are kind!_

_He-Jay: Thank you so much for this review! I'm so flattered that you think this of my little story—thank you!  
I really like to explore more than one side of a character; I think that's what makes them realistic, and in turn, the story more exciting.  
The slave trade is really a dark subject that's taken over a lot of history, and lasts during different time periods. I like to explore these areas both as a challenge to writing and as information, so I'm glad you enjoyed it, thank you!  
Thank you so much for this lovely review! It really makes me happy to know that someone of your excellent penmanship thinks so highly of a story I decided to kinda 'go with the flow' with instead of planning. Overall, I'd call this a success, so thank you! _


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